Playing Doctor
by edwardanthonymasencullengirl
Summary: Edward and Bella. Rated T. All Human. He is a depressed rich kid looking to escape his own mind. She is a bruised prostitute just trying to survive. What happens when these two strangers cross paths? Can they fix each other?
1. Chapter 1

The faithful buildings and homes I knew pass me by; averting their eyes, instilling their judgment. The lights that once illuminated our beautiful town, dim themselves for our precarious departure. The ground beneath me once steady and present, now easily breakable.. The sound of the rain beating down on my impenetrable car, making an irritating pitter patter noise everyone from those crummy sob movies everybody seemed to love. I listen carefully to the slush of the blanketing snow, trying to match the mire to the beat of whatever song was playing. The loneliness makes it that so there is very little keeping me from regretting this decision: this decision to leave the only place that has ever _felt_ like home. I had to leave. Leaving was not a desire but more of revulsion with certain perks. The last thing I need is a new school, new friends, and even more, an entirely new disguise. This isn't going to play out well I presume: this, trying to hide myself from people that have no right prying in the first place. As if anyone honestly cared for what was beyond this admirable exterior. As if anyone was ready to deal with anything beneath the deepest of teen angst. Surely to anyone inquiring my thoughts, 'He's an attention seeker.' Sometimes I don't feel safe in my own thoughts. It scares the hell out of me.

I pull up to the first stop light in miles.

'_**Welcome to Portland, Oregon**__'_ the sign reads_**'The Beaver State.**__'_

A mere step up from the always gloomy Seattle.

"Turn green…_now_ if this is a bad decision."

_Green._

An omen. It was an omen. An omen telling me this wasn't the right decision. An omen telling me the best thing was to stay behind; watch as my over achieving family go onto new adventures too much for me to handle.

There's just something so shallow about my family. They think making me run away from my problems is the best way to_ fix_ me. I wish my family and I could love each other in the right way. I love them because I have to. They love me because they still have faith they can change me into something into one of them.

I pull into a diner with an awning written in faded letters, Tina's Diner. It doesn't look like the type of diner where they served actual body parts of past customers so I decide to make my way in. I offer a halfhearted smile at the server. She automatically points me to the bathroom which I quickly amble to. Before I can make it out to my car I catch sight of my sisters.

Alice is the child like, sensitive one who you can't help but love. Her short, brunette hair drawn along the sides of her baby face highlights her most beautiful feature: her playful hazel eyes.

Rosalie on the other hand is a mature rough neck, definitely someone you would not want to fuck with. Her strawberry blonde hair emphasizes her cattiness, but goes rather well with her icicle eyes. Rosalie is truly every guy's wet dream. Being her brother saying this, it's completely true.

Sometimes I wonder how she and Alice are best friends. Rosalie doesn't even look like the type to have acquaintances, much less a best friend.

I thought about walking out before they could catch me,, but I refused to. It would look bad if I didn't greet them.

"Alice. Rosalie." I smile, avoiding each person's sudden glare.

"Edward," Alice says, greeting me with that always spunky smile of hers. She motions for me to sit and I find myself next to Rosalie, the angry blonde with always a deathful look in her eye.

"Were you both here when I walked in?" I asked Alice.

"Shocked you noticed us," Rosalie buts in. "If you didn't walk over here, I was sure you were going to leave without even saying anything."

"I'd never do that Rosalie," I say never taking my eyes from Alice's. "Not to be rude, but why are you guys so far behind? You should be half way there by now."

"We've been...um…Rosalie?"

"Following you. We've been following you. How'd you not notice? I mean, we've honked, yelled – I've even had Alice poke her head out of the window." She tossed her half eaten burger to the side of her plate.

"I'm surprised I didn't notice that."

"I'm not" Alice says, "You've been elsewhere lately."

She's right. I haven't been myself. I'm not even sure what myself is anymore. Part of me wants to believe it's because of the move. Another part of me wants to believe I'm just mad at the world. That part of me, more dominant that the other. I just don't want to answer to real reason I've been evading lately. To be completely blunt, it has been because – because everyone has something – someone to live for. And I don't. I mean I had that once, but it was never prosperous. Or perhaps it could have been – maybe even romantic despite her constant attacks of the word 'no.'

It isn't someone I'm looking for to love me. Nor is it someone to want. It's just – I need someone to need me – I need a responsibility. Nothing more.

"I don't really want to talk about it Alice," I begged. "Please respect that?"

"We didn't ask in the first place Masen." Rosalie, as understanding as ever. She has improved throughout the years. Really, this is Rosalie at her best.

"I think I'll get going now," I said focusing intently on the table. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Bye Edward!" Alice springs up, enclosing me mildly tightly in her tiny arms. I retorted by clasping mine around her small waist, holding her closely.

"And we will see you tomorrow, right?"

I don't answer her. I didn't want to lie.

I smirked and began walking out of the diner before catching the tip jar in the corner of my eye; I dropped a twenty dollar bill in and left a fifty on the counter, motioning to Rosalie and Alice. The elderly waitress gave me a doubtful look, causing me to stop. "You are a very nice boy" she said, "You will soon find what you are_ truly_ looking for."

I returned another halfhearted smile before blasting out of there. Another complication, I thought. I hadn't even given her a second though before reaching my BMW. I hop in, turn the ignition on and am out of there in a second. I glance at the map, figuring out the way Rosalie would choose to go – the shortcut. So I decide to go the longest way possible…gives me time to think – revaluate.

After endless hours of driving, I pull into the parking lot of my new apartment. My new apartment. Not _our_ new house – my apartment.

I get out of my car and stand directly in front of my new apartment building. I gather a few things from my car, including my goldfish, Snappy, and make my way to the receptionist's desk. As I near her I can see a difference in facial expression. Nothing I wasn't used to. I had encountered girls of her nature before. With myself and most girls, it was as if they'd see me as a dumb blonde and the second I say something intelligent, rush to the door they would. I'm not usually one to stereotype but I knew the way certain girls perceived me and I am inaudibly sick of it. The only women never to show me that kind of attention were those of my family – close family. And even then, there's extended family that never ceased to amaze me.

"Hi, Edward Masen" I say, trying my best to not make eye contact.

"Yes Mr. Masen, we've been expecting you. One second." I wait. She walks to the back of her miniature office and pick something off of the floor. She did this obviously so I'd stare at her ass. Women did this to me all the time and quite truthfully, I was sick of it. Not many men would say this but I would. Frankly, her ass wasn't the best I had ever seen.

She walks back in what she seemed to think was a "sexy strut." "Ah, Mr. Masen, fifteenth floor fifth door to the right. Should I send someone to get your luggage? Or should I do that myself?" She flirted, annoyingly.

"No thank you," I cut her off, "I'll be fine."

I begin walking off as she continues to drone on and on. I'm usually not one to ignore women in such a manor but I just can't deal with another one of her right now. Surely I'd eventually make mindless conversation but tonight is not the night. I just want to get into my bed and sleep.

Sleep until I forget.

The loud vibrations against the wooden nightstand wake me. It is the moving people, right on time. They text me, reminding me of the time they're supposed to be here. I'll use the extra half hour to get ready.

I pull the wrinkled sheet from my body, feeling unheeded amounts of regret. I sluggishly head to the kitchen. I creep to the left of my bedroom only to find the bathroom along with an empty closet Alice would end up filling with her junk. To the right: my living room. In front of me: a distant wall with a hung mirror. I stare at my profile in astonishment. I'd seen myself millions of times before, but it is now that I really _see_ myself. A pale, inconsistent complexion with dimmed, once bright green eyes. I know this is only a mirror and it is only reflecting me…but I wish I could see something – something more than just a face. I wish I could see reason.

I shake the feeling of insecurity and decide to unravel the apartment before becoming engulfed. To my left: a lengthily hallway leading into an empty living room consisting only of one old, dusty couch. It is the sort of thing my family wouldn't approve of – "It's not good enough for us Cullens they'd say." And for that, I intend to keep it. Farther into the living room: a larger than life view. The disclosed buildings make it difficult to live but I think I'll manage. The windows: something that seems out of the ordinary. They're something you'd typically find in an old suburban home. Very much me I decide. I wonder how I hadn't noticed all of this in the pictures. They were accurate enough when I think about it. I head into the generally small kitchen, built for one I decide, and find myself a glass of orange juice and down it. The disgusting after taste in my mouth reminds me that I forgot to brush my teeth. I quickly head into the bathroom and get ready for the movers. I hadn't had much planned for today but still, I had a thing for waking early.

Returning from the tiled room, I pick out a faithful pair of old indigo jeans, gray shirt, and my favorite shoes. I run my fingers through my hair a few times and shake the water out of it. Reach for my Roberto Cavalli cologne and give myself a few sprits. It claims to make you smell like a rainforest but I just smell like a brand new car.

The doorbell rings. Opening the door, I quickly greet the movers and tell them to just put the boxes where ever. There's no reason to make them move what I can easily unpack and move else where. Before they leave I tip them each one hundred dollars.

I begin unpacking the boxes with my clothes first, sorting them by brand, loading them into my massive closet. Then, my shoes. Those were the only pieces of attire Alice thought I had actual taste in.

Continuing through the boxes, I find a few photo albums. I plop down onto the cold, hard ground, marveling at them. The first is of Rosalie as a child, this was back when her hair was he blondest it has ever been, nearly a beautiful white. They go with her blue eyes. I was only a baby by then. I remember stories about how we'd always play with each other, and when she was upset, I was the only one to make her smile. I only wonder what made her so cold hearted. I believe there's some of the old Rosalie in there somewhere.

Running my fingers through my hair, I already know what the next picture is going to be: Emmett and I. This is a day I remember very vividly. Carlisle and Esme took me along for moral support to the adoption place to pick up a strange little boy named Emmett. They explained to us that he'd be joining out family and that he was our new brother. I didn't mind it at all because I was mostly alone. Rosalie and Alice were and are still a pair – I needed some guy time. When I first met Emmett, he told me I was weird because I dressed differently than he did. Then again, he did dress like an all around guy's guy: messy shirt that didn't highlight his muscles and blue faded jeans. These days, his style is practically the same with the exception of all brand names. Other than that, he's still a short haired, brown eyed overgrown kid.

Since that day, he's been my best friend. As we grew older though, we parted our own ways. It wasn't it fault, I just pushed him away. Eventually, he got sick of trying. We're still pretty close but nothing compared to what we used to be.

Besides, Emmett got taken up with something – someone else. He ended up falling for Rosalie. It always intrigued him about how mean she was to him and why she'd never laugh at his jokes. Finally he figured it out: she liked him and he liked her. You can imagine their surprise with Carlisle and Esme caught Emmett and Rosalie near sex.

The next is one of Alice when she was five, being held in Carlisle's arms before he became a surgeon. Those were the days when he and Alice were completely inseparable. The only reason she ever took to me was because I was the only male that showed her attention. I know she isn't the type to go out and look for other male attention. But the lack of having Carlisle around will end up hurting her in the long run.

She seems delicate on the outside, but that's just because she's so strong on the inside. So breakable she seems, but she can never break if she wasn't whole to start with. Besides, the only reason she ever let Carlisle go was because he let her go.

Of course, Esme tried tirelessly to pick up the slack but never could. Of us all, it seemed Alice was the one that mattered to Carlisle the most – then he chose his work in front of her. After that, she became engulfed in her own little bubble. Though unspoken of, no one dare touch on the situation.

I find one of my parents. It was back when they were in their twenties. Back when they were perfectly content with each other. Back when Carlisle was in medical school and only wanted to help people. When he didn't want money and social ranking. Luckily, Esme changed very little through out the years. But I notice the slight dimness in her eyes that never once resided there. Those one bright green emeralds that shone their brightest for Carlisle – now a light flame.

Each time I see her eyes, it pleas silently with him to return to what he used to be. And when he's gone, away on some medical convention, her heart breaks even more. She masks it from everyone else, but I can see it. I can see through her pleasant exterior. She takes much by Alice – broken.

Carlisle Derrick Masen: the surgeon, the husband, the head Cullen, the father – my father. He is the picture of perfection. Everything he does and is, is immaculate. But sometimes I feel as if that's all he is – like he doesn't feel. Like a robot. It works, does everything you want it to, but it just doesn't feel.

The last picture is of me. A time when I felt love from my family. A time when my first layer was my only. When I was completely blinded by the fact that nothing this family is real.

How different we've all become. I hadn't even realized the salty substance on my cheek until the door bell rings for the first time.

As I open the door, I hear chattering that could only belong to my sisters. I quickly wipe away any evidence of depression from my face and open the door.

"Alice" I acknowledge.

"Edward," she mimics my harsh tone childishly "We brought food." She holds up the large brown bag happily with the largest grin on her face.

"I'm sorry," I begin forming an excuse before even letting them in. "I can't, I'm in the middle of –" I begin forcing a tone of tiredness.

"Come on Edward," she pushed past Alice and flaunts around before finally looking at me. "Pull that stick out of your ass and have some fun for once."

I notice Alice still in the doorway, polite as ever, so I motion her in. Unlike Rosalie, she stays only a few steps away from the door. She offers me the food they picked up on the way here and I lead them into the kitchen.

"So how you liking your new apartment." She paces back and forth, observing my taste in style and not failing to touch anything at her reserve.

"Well its home now isn't it? I've got to like it."

Once we've eaten, Rosalie decides to rumble through the rest of the boxes marked,

'Personals.'

"Well I've got lots to do and I'm sure you guys have a lot of unpacking to do so…"

"I've done all of my unpacking" Rosalie barks.

"So I suppose you guys didn't come here without reason…"

"We want to take you to a little party," she answers.

"No thank you" I quickly respond, attempting to walk away.

"Dad's hosting a party." She stops me dead in my tracks. "A housewarming party. A bunch of other surgeons will be there. Apparently he has a lot of colleges in Portland. He wants the entire family there so he can flaunt us around."

"For the record, that's not a house warming party. That's just another case of him bringing home his work" I retort.

"Please come!" Alice begs, "It'll be so boring without you there. With all of those fancy pants people, who am I supposed to hang out with?"

"Rosalie" I say, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Rosalie always has to talk to those people. No one ever lets me talk because I don't sound smart" she pouts.

"You are smart Alice, just in a different, more special way." I love the way Alice would prospect things for you. Unlike everyone else of the family, she was the one to make fun of the oddness of our parents' socialite parties. Each party held by our parents is never enjoyable. They simply consist of upper class snobs walking around with one glass on untouched champagne the entire night…same as our parents. I decide to sit this one out. I'm not going. "I'm sorry," I began sternly, "I am not going."


	2. Chapter 2

While in the car, conversation is limited only to forgetful remarks about the weather, which isn't anything but murky here. Now, the class of the houses seems to be changing. Surely this is where _Mom _and_ Dad's_ new house is. Rosalie enters through the gates after verification. There, I see them waiting for us. I hop out quickly and open the door for Alice. Rosalie has already sprinted away.

Leaning closer to Esme, I give her a quick peck on the cheek. "Hi." She gives me a slightly suspicious look and finds herself back behind Carlisle.

"Edward," Carlisle says, hurtling his arm onto my shoulders "Glad you could make it, Son. Shall we go inside?"

"Yeah, nice to see you." I smile uncomfortably.

I've never really considered my parents, parents because to me they were irrelevant. Parents were humans in which one birthed you and both taught you to become a decent human being. To me, if I could teach myself those things, they were not of necessity.

They give us a quick tour of their overly extravagant house. Everyone but me has seen it and they felt as if I was missing out on something special; so I had to endure Carlisle's endless bragging and Esme's uncomfortable quietness. Nearly the entire humble abode is decorated fancily. I wonder when they had the time to do this. They probably paid someone in advance to take care of the house so it would be presentable for their arrival.

"Lil' bro!"

I hear Emmett running down the stairs. Now he decides to come down. Rosalie follows behind him. He grabs her in his hold and kisses her ferociously.

"Heard you were depressed, what's up with that?" he teases placing his arm on my shoulder, guiding me into the living room as Carlisle and Esme head off into some other room. "You alright or do I need to call you a shrink?" he mocks.

"Not yet" I retort. "It can wait 'till after the party." I say mockingly.

"Well I have the perfect fix for you. There are going to be a lot of hot nurses here tonight. Maybe you'll finally get laid." Out of nowhere, you hear a loud slap. The one thing Rosalie was good for.

It's eight o'clock and so far, the day has been painfully uneventful. I stand in the living room staring at nothing in particular, while Esme comes in with a suit. She tells me to put it on while the others get dressed. I am the only one who has forgotten to pack a suit. Luckily, Esme had an extra suit that used to belong to Carlisle. Now it just sits in the closet, nearly new. She didn't feel weird about lending it to me because he had only worn it once. God forbid anyone in my family repeat an outfit: that'd be the end of us all.

By now, Carlisle's colleagues are pouring in. I look to my left only to see Esme pouring everyone champagne. So far, everyone has said yes yet no one has actually drunken any of it. Typical people, I though, shaking my head. Never can these people be unpredictable. It's like this: different people, same everything. It's quite sickening actually. I down my second glass of light wine and begin walking towards the door when a woman springs up in front of me.

She is holding an untouched glass of chardonnay. I quickly notice the lipstick stains covering the complete circumference of the glass. She must be drunk, I thought.

"Hello there handsome" she flirts.

"Hi," I manage, not looking at her.

She leans closer, pulling my tie closer to her. I try brushing her off, smiling, ruffling my hair, and jerking my body back. Her eyes are a dark brown and by the look of her, she isn't the usually type to be here. She seems like this is her first party and she is bored out of her mind. You can take the party animal out of the party but you cannot take the party out of the party animal. And by the looks of it, she isn't the "white party" type.

"What body part do you operate on, sexy?"

"I'm not a doctor, thanks."

"Fine," she said pushing her body onto mine. I look around calmly; hoping no one else notices. "I have a few body parts you can work on..."

"Melanie!" I hear Rosalie calling.

_Thank God._

"How much did you drink, girlfriend?" She laughs, feigning concern.

"A lot" she says unsteadily, already unable to walk properly.

"Let's get you on the couch" she says as she begins hauling her away. I mouth thank you to Rosalie as she turns her head in my direction.

"What about sexy over there?" she asks slurring "I think I was wearing him down."

_Yeah right._

"Me too…I'll get his number for you later."

That was the millionth drunken blonde who has hit on me during one of these senseless parties.

I decide I need some fresh air and begin walking towards the door until I see Carlisle and a few of his colleagues nearing me. Wonderful, another meet and greet. I down my fourth glass of light wine and I'm ready to talk.

"William, meet my son, Edward. Edward, this is William Mackintosh, my comrade at the hospital."

We hold out hands for each other's displeasure.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise" he says.

"How long have you too known each other?"

"Not very –" Carlisle says, his face completely flushed.

"Well why don't you wait until you start working together before you go around calling people your comrade, huh?" I smile slyly, inhaling another mouthful of the champagne.

He gives me a deathful stare as William tries to laugh it off as if it was nothing. I make them both aware of my empty glass, "Can I have another?" I play it off as a drunken haze so I won't have to confess my ulterior motive. Sometimes a guy has to have some fun, doesn't he?

"A funny kid you've got here Carlisle," he comments.

"Among his many talents," he boasts. "Actually, did you know that Edward –" he begins.

At this point, I completely faze out. I stand there, feet six inches from each other, both hands holding the empty champagne glass, smile perfectly plastered across my face. I practically lost track of the amount of times I had to perfect that exterior.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't the son of a well known surgeon. We are literally a family portrait: fake. You have every possible personality every television family has in our family. A perfect family. But we're not. Television families don't exist. They exist only in movies and story books, not in real life. They're not supposed to exist in real life.

Sometimes I wish I belonged to a middle class family. A family that complains about each other. A family that intentionally pisses each other off just to get a reaction deep down inside but never with the intent of permanent damage. Basically, a happy family because they're flawed in so many ways they're uncountable. The truth is, I don't even know their reasons for living. Hell, I don't even know mine. But I won't get into those suicidal thoughts right now. I'm much too intoxicated to entertain those thoughts. Plus, Carlisle's future colleagues are here. It'd look bad for his image.

Soon, the conversation strays back to Carlisle's accomplishments; a list way longer than mine.

Once I am out of everybody's sight, I sneak to the front of the house and pull out my last release. Anti – depressants. It's amazing what's at your dispense having a doctor as a father.

The only one that knows about these is Alice. She hates that I do this to myself but it's not as if it's been an ongoing thing. I've only been taking these a few months now. There's absolutely nothing else that gives me any sort of pleasure. It doesn't make sense that I enjoy it. Quite actually I should hate it. But I don't. I decide my infatuation with these pills should stay unquestioned.

After a few pills, I realize that the combination was not my brightest idea ever. Without a moment's notice, I begin feeling dizzy and light headed but still fully aware of my surroundings.

_Edward, Edward._

I hear someone whispering playfully.

_Come for me Edward. Come save me._

She begs. I turn and twist, trying to find the familiar voice calling me.

_Edward._

The whispers continue.

_Save me Edward. Follow my voice._

I don't understand why, but the conscience that once existed in my mind is nowhere to be found. I see blazing flames in the distance. I follow it. The girl's voice becomes more frantic.

_Edward! Come for me! It hurts! The flames hurt! EDWARD!_

I run through the forest, screaming for her. But she only replies the 'same words, save me, save me Edward,' the words in her voice becoming distanced and strained.

Without they guidance of her voice, I run through the forest, only my footsteps to keeping my ears company. I search for the flames but cannot find them. The familiar voice is nowhere to be heard.

I reach into my pocket, hands and body shaking violently, trying to find the last of my pills. The bottle comes up empty. I turn my back to the blackness and walk slowly back.

Driving wouldn't be the best of ideas for me but I wasn't about to ask anyone for a ride home – nor would anyone comply.

I drive home in a frenzy, not bothering to think of anyone else but that soft repetitive voice in the forest. I knew then and now that it wasn't real but I still hope sometimes that it was – so maybe, just maybe I could have a chance to save her.

She was my best friend. The only person who cared enough the break down my walls. She was the only person who ever loved me for me. She was my best friend.

I'll always regret the day I offered her to house watch for us. Because that was the day there was a horrendous gas leak. That was the day my best friend lost her life to a fire.

I remember when we got back from that one week vacation that we had gotten the news of a family's house getting burnt down. Of course, we felt bad to that family until we returned to a place that was so unrecognizable to us. Everything was in ashes. Our most precious heirlooms – destroyed. I honestly thought she had gotten out in time. I remember just standing staring, waiting for her to run up to me and hug me with the vastness of her beating heart. I wanted her to tell me that it wasn't her fault – that it was mine, and how I had almost killed her.

But that never happened.

The firemen showed me a taping of what had happened.

The only thing I could see was vague shadows from my bedroom of her calling for help, calling for me.

Endless tears rolled down my face that day. The one comfort I ever had was gone. Now I had nothing.

These pills have been the only thing to numb the void that she left behind in me. Sometimes I even see her. Her short brown hair in a mess and her brown eyes staring at me. Of course I'm hallucinating; this sort of stuff is supposed to freak you out but it doesn't me. I'm happy that I get to see her sometimes. It still feels like she's here when I need her. Though it's been two years, the memory of that day still _burns_ deep in my thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

Last night wasn't as terrible as I'd presumed it to be. The visit at my parents' new home was okay, a lot to see. The 'kiss my colleagues' ass" house warming party get together was a bit more intriguing than usual. The drunken middle-aged woman was the highlight on my night.

Remembering that Carlisle and I have a meet and greet with my teachers today at Portland High School, I collect my thoughts amble out of bed.

Pulling up to the school, I notice that the school looks very different from where I live. Simpler actually, intimate. Very different to what I was exposed to in Seattle. But this is Portland, the beauty of this place in inconsequential. I would think the entire area would be filled with endless mounts of buildings and what not.

Getting out of my car, I notice few eyes fixated on me. Barely anyone pays attention to my appearances here. I love it. I find on quiet looking girl and ask her to point me to the principal's office. Jokingly, she tells me I am the only person who has ever looked for that guy. Smiling, I walk away, thanking her for her help.

Once I am in the office, he greets me with a handshake. He tells me to take a seat and that we'd wait for Carlisle to show up. Rather than wasting his time, I tell him that there has been an emergency at the hospital, knowing he was just probably off at some golf game. He probably never even thought twice about showing up.

Looking through my portfolio, I notice Mr. Marshall's facial expression do a complete three sixty. He's probably found that my father is the great Carlisle Cullen: brilliant surgeon. I can't wait to hear that story again.

"Your grades are amazing. I trust you were in the advanced honors class prior to this?"

"Yes," I say confused. No one has ever questioned me about myself – at least not before acquiring whom my father is.

"Seattle, huh? The rainy state?"

"Most days."

"Been there a few times myself. Got an ex-wife out there. Better she stay there aye?" I found his humor quite awkward.

After a while, he begins, "So where's your father? Isn't he supposed to be here by now?"

"I guess there's been an emergency at the hospital again. He probably won't be able to make it."

"Oh well," he said scanning the portfolio, "Mr. Carlisle Cullen, what does he do?"

"My father's a cardiologist."

"Well it's unfortunate he won't be able to make it. So do you think we can get on with it then? The teachers are expecting you at a certain time."

I look at him bewildered. "So you don't want to know anything else about him? Carlisle Cullen?" I emphasize. "You're really not going to ask anything else?"

Planting himself in front of me he begins, "Son, listen: we here at Portland High School don't care much for anyone's money. We care about teaching the students to the best of our ability. Now I understand you may have gone to a school where they care mostly for where you're from and how much money you have – but not us. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to take you on a little tour around the school."

I nod, not knowing what else to do.

After a while, I realize that walking in and out of classrooms isn't the most interesting of things to do.

Walking down the hallway is an awkward, corky looking guy with his head half tilted to the principal stern expression. His utter obviousness makes it difficult to not notice him.

"Mr. Riley!" Mr. Marshall, "On your way to class I presume?"

His menacing words seem to shrill the blood of the untimely bystander.

"Hey Mr. M" he says realizing his defeat, "I was just on my way out. Lunch." You would

think the principal would know what time lunch is. "You know how it is."

"No Xavier I don't know how it goes. I am the principal. I do not have free periods. I work till the nub on my fingers bleed."

"Oh. Sounds painful, try Neosporin. Works for me every time. SEE?!" He proceeded to shove his finger in Marshall's face.

"So you can show our new student around then. Edward: meet Xavier. Xavier: meet your new extra credit assignment."

He laughs.

With a huge plastered smile on his face, almost as if pleased with himself, Mr. Marshall walks away.

"So" he began.

"Let's get this over with. I know the last thing you want to do right now is show me around so –"

"Whoa whoa whoa" he cuts me off. "No worries brother, always glad to help out a fellow Samaritan." He smiles quirkily.

As he leads us both out of the hallway, I catch a glimpse of an out of place girl. Her hair drapes her face, revealing only a tight expression. Lifting her head, looking back at me, she gives me the finger. Removing her book from her lap, she runs off; my eyes, never leaving her. She almost looks like – never mind.

"Dude! Dude!" Xavier calls. "I've been talking for the last five minutes and all you've been staring at is that girl over there." He pauses, looking uncomfortable. "Don't even try. She's bad news." He speaks nonchalantly as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He shows me all of the classes that I will be attending and explains about every teacher I should keep a look out for.

By the time we're outside, it's already raining. At least it's something familiar from back home.

"Want to see something cool?" He asks as we pass the outside courtyard where numerous sports are taking place: soccer, cheerleading, football. The outside seems larger than the inside. He leads up a narrow staircase.

The nursery is surprisingly beautiful. I love how the plants align the window ceiling. I begin circling the hard granite counters there; it seems like more of a dungeon abandoned than a general nursery.

"Are you sure we should be up here?" I ask.

"We shouldn't. But we are," he smiles slyly, knowing he can blame this all on me.

The place looks deserted but somehow kept. There are a bunch of pesticides near the plants. Not the best to have them, I decide. Xavier continues to mumble about something but my attention is else where concerned.

"Hey man, with me blabbering on here, I didn't even get to ask you anything about yourself" he finally realizes. "So…what's your last name?"

"Cullen." I answer, trying to draw my attention back to the conversation. We walk to the bleachers to where girl's soccer is taking place. He motions for us to sit, so I do.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Seattle."

"Okay seriously dude, your one word answers are starting to scare me."

"Washington." I pause. "Seattle, Washington."

He smiles in defeat; this was one of my few pleasures.

"Why'd you move anyway?"

"We matriculate a lot. My father's job requires a lot of transplanting."

"How about your mom?"

"Unemployed."

"Woah, sounds rough. Must be pretty down and out, huh?" He didn't sound like he believed it himself.

I decided not to correct him. It could be my personal, sick lie.

"Well, if you ever need a good meal" he started "the cafeteria has good mashed potatoes.

I couldn't help but laugh.

As he continues to talk, I start walking back down the stairs which he follows, still going on about everyone he hates here, cracking a few inappropriate jokes here and there. Usually I wouldn't favor this sort of person but there's something about him that seems like he isn't completely full of it. So I suppose I won't make a lame excuse just so I can leave.

"Look at that" he says pointing to the soccer field. "That's Vincent, Wesley, and Derrick. Kellan's their leader…and total ass." Where have I heard that before? "Vincent's the strongest, most pigheaded. Wesley is the, what they call the funny man of the group. And Derrick is basically who they blame for everything they do. He's a douche in training. Not completely but almost there. I almost feel bad for the guy."

He watches them closely as they flirt with the overly interested girls. One of them actually gets hit in the head with the ball as they all watch and laugh. Everyone including Kellan – he actually stepped out of the way so she'd get hit. Her facial expression shows embarrassment.

"See that? Every girl drools over him – now that you're here, things are going to change. Agree?"

"Hardly." _Probably._

"How many girlfriends do you have anyway?"

"Three."

"That's all?!" He asks astonished.

Half laughing, "None."

"Man, no one important...at all?"

My expression changes immediately as his words now hold new meaning. "No," I lied, not wanting to think about her.

Averting my expression, he turns away from me. "Well hey," he jumps back, "Why don't you come meet a few of my friends?"

"I don't think that's –"

"Awesome. It's settled. We'll go now. I've got to eat anyway." And with that, he fumbles downstairs, picks up his soaking backpack and motions for me to follow him. The cafeteria is a completely different direction from where the classes are.

He heads us into a large cafeteria where they are numerous sections of cliques. No exactly the typical high school panorama but somewhat close. As soon as one person notices the presence of the new kid, everyone starts talking.

Xavier leads me to a table with a tight looking group of friends.

"Everyone, meet Edward," he makes everyone aware of my presence.

A light haired girl turns my way first, a sweet smile spreads across her face as she introduces herself. "Hi. My name's Kherington. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise" I say.

"Hunter," a large muscular looking guy turns to me, without ever letting loose of the girl in sitting on his lap. "And this is Valencia." She had bright red hair and a seductive smile that probably had every guy melting.

"Nice to meet you guys."

I took a seat between Xavier and Kherington. Without looking away from my hands, I am suddenly being questioned.

"And this is Ember. She doesn't talk much so don't expect some sort of greeting from her. Only once have we ever heard her talk, and that was when there was a huge fire in the staircase. Everyone was more shocked that her mouth actually opened."

"Edward! Edward!" called an unknown voice. Xavier, who had stopped inhaling his French fries for a second to regain my attention, called me back to the present.

"What's wrong with it?" Valencia asks in disgust. I made it my personal mission to remember everyone's name from this group. I could see that they would soon become my small group of friends.

Xavier shrugs, "He just zones in and out like that."

"Nothing wrong, I just – remembered something." Recalling that I had to be a gentleman towards Ember, I smile, offering her a quick wave. She averts her eyes from mine and looks down at her lap. She was dressed fully in black – nothing about her had color except her pale skin and pinkish lips.

"Where are you from?" asks the girl wrapped in Hunters arms.

"Seattle, we just moved down a few days ago."

"Only? Don't you think it's a bit early to be starting school?" asks Kherington.

"Not really. I've always been one to get a head start on things."

"Wow, you're actually excited to start school. That's a first," jokes Xavier. Everyone in the large group laughs expect for Ember. For some reason, my eyes keep fixated on her. She doesn't look away either.

"Tell us something about yourself, Edward," asks Kherington.

Before I have the opportunity to hold the attention of everyone, Valencia and Hunter begin sucking each other's faces off. Noticing that I am staring, Xavier tells me to just ignore it. It happens a lot Kherington chimes in. Ember never says a word.

"Well, I'm eighteen, Caucasian male, varying eye color but legally green, I like reading, music, and climbing."

Valencia pops up for air, leaving Hunter pulling her back down. "Climbing? Specify." Her voice flattens.

"Rock climbing, deep-water soloing, alpine style. Basically I love it all. Do any of you guys like that kind of stuff?"

"You're not a talker Edward," observes Valencia. "No need to make mindless conversation. Xavier will speak for you."

"I don't need anyone to speak for me – I'm not disabled." That came off harsher than I'd meant it to.

"Feisty," says Hunter. "I like this guy – maybe I won't kill you." Valencia laughs.

Giving them an odd look, I turn my head. Ember's eyes are still locked to mine. Her pose still hasn't changed. I wonder how they all became friends without her even talking to anyone. I suppose it was that instant connection type thing.

The bell rings and everyone scrambles out of the cafeteria. Before Xavier leaves, he tells me to meet him in the parking lot before class begins. I agree, even though I know I probably won't.

The cafeteria is immediately empty by the time the second bell sounds and I take it as my sign to leave. I start making my way out before I am called back by an unfamiliar voice.

"You'll find what you're looking for here," says Ember.

"You spoke," I say smiling. "They said you don't speak."

Before I can even finish my sentence, she walks away slowly, fading.


	4. Chapter 4

I stare at the clock for an hour. Watching as time tick away, getting the strangest of thoughts in my mind. Finally, the clock struck eight. Time to get up; can't be late for the first day of school. Alice goes to a different school than Rosalie and I. I'm sure she and Rosalie would miss each other. Emmett has already enrolled in college but isn't going this semester. He says he'll take these next two months off to reflect which also means videogames. I wasn't too excited about attending high school with Rosalie at first but after I found out that none of our classes are together, my anxiety lessened.

Senior year of high school in February. Can't wait.

As I pull into the driveway of Portland High School, I notice the lack of ostentatious cars like mine. I quickly spot a familiar maroon Mercedes. Rosalie is already here. I park just in time for classes. Premeditated, I smirk to myself; I really don't feel like meaninglessly socializing.

The classes seem quite intimate from the outside. The school has only four hundred kids total so no one here knows what it's like not to know anyone else.

My first class: geometry. Mr. DiNino. I recall the name from one of Xavier's tireless rants about the teachers here. I think this was the one class he actually enjoyed.

"Hey guys, meet Edward Cullen. He's new here. I trust you guys to show him around, make him feel welcome?"

Most girls nod. The guys just stare uncomfortably. I look out into the classroom of only twenty or so students and one girl seems to catch my eye. Mainly because she was staring with her eyes wide open. "You good? You cool?" he checked.

"Yeah, I'm good."

I glimpse at the girl pushing the quiet kid out of the seat next to her, causing him to wallow to the front of the classroom. As he sits down in front of me, he gives me the death stare.

"Where are you going to sit…?" Mr. DiNino trails off.

"There's a vacant seat over here. If you want to sit" the girl adjusts her attention onto me now.

_Wonderful_

"Perfect. You can take a seat right next to Mackenzie."

I amble to my seat, trying my best to avoid the obvious stares. The lesson isn't what I hoped it would be. Though I had already learned this stuff, I try concentrating on the topic rather than on the girls' obvious stares. As the bell rings, she springs up in front of me, nearly causing me to bump into her.

"Hey" the blonde preppy girl greets. "Edward, right? You're new here." She positions her body in a way that I would have no choice but to stare at her. Something she is quite used to it seems.

"Yes." I try my hardest to avoid her shallow eyes. I quickly observe the type of person she is. By her over accessorizing of brand names, she has more money than most – but not too much that she can afford to be modest about it.

"Where'd you move from?" We begin walking out of class together...against my will.

"Seattle."

"Seattle" she mimicked, "Isn't it super rainy down there?"

"Up there –"

"Wow," she cuts me off "Your arms are like, super buff. You work out a lot?" She grabs my arm, rubbing it in an uncomfortable manner.

"Sure, it keeps me busy" I say, pulling it gently away from her. She seems to notice this and stops dead in her tracks, crossing her arms.

"Tell you what, since you're the new kid and you seem to have not heard about me yet, I'll pretend this little conversation didn't happen. Next time, know me." She turns away; walking leaving me with the repetitive clanking of her heels.

With that conversation far from my thoughts, I begin my long walk to building three: chemistry class. Again, I was stopped by an unknown passerby.

"Man," the guy with dirty blonde hair commented, "You did not handle that well." I give him a questioning look. It was Xavier. "Where are you going?"

"Chemistry."

"Hey, Kherington and I have got that class, too. We'll walk you there."

Out of nowhere, she pops up, sporting her orange book bag and engages in conversation.

"As I was saying, do you have any idea who that was?"

"No," I reply.

"That was freaking Mackenzie Mackintosh. She doesn't just talk to anyone like that. She must have a thing for you."

"I doubt it," I retort, trying to find my way to the third building. A go to make a left until a feel a slight tug on my arm. 'This way' Kherington mouths.

"Besides, she doesn't know the first thing about him" she adds,

"It doesn't matter that she doesn't know who he is. She just has to see something she likes and it becomes hers."

"As in her property?" I ask.

"Yes as in her property!" He pauses. "You know."

We walk into the classroom. They show me to their regular table where Xavier insists we continue this irrelevant conversation.

"So you're telling me, you don't want that? C'mon man, she's hot."

Rolling her eyes, Kherington says "She's not that hot. Besides, she doesn't even have a personality."

"I agree with Kherington. I don't even know her. Why would I want her? Sorry, but I just don't believe in love at first sight." And with that, the conversation was over.

As soon as the bell rings, the students come pouring in. I avert my eyes from the staring girls and dive into a textbook. The assignment is to test the effect of carbon dioxide on bromothymol blue solution. I already know the outcome. The materials aren't on our desks except for the gloves so I must go and get them myself. I grabbed a beaker, solution, etc. and place them all upon a sturdy tray.

As I turn around, I can't help but notice the beautiful girl I had ever seen walking towards me. My heart quickened, my palms got sweaty, and my body turned completely numb. I stared at her every exterior except for her eyes. They would not meet with mine yet. The closer she got, the harder it was for me to function…until I just stopped functioning. We bumped into each other and everything went flying. The solution spilled all over her and glass, broke on me. I quickly got up, forgetting about the glass on top of me and offer her a hand. Without looking up she murmurs, "Dick" and rushes out of the classroom. I try following her but am stopped by Mr. Isenberg.

I'm too lost in thought with the thought of that beautiful stranger to even realize I'm bleeding. Without much attention drawn to myself, I clean up the mess and head to the bathroom. On my way there, I can't help but look for the girl that had honestly caught my attention. Nothing. I see her nowhere.

By now, school is nearly over but I've been completely preoccupied to think about anyone else but her. The girl red. She was the most modest girl I had ever laid eyes on. I wonder if she is as beautiful inside as she is outside. Xavier tried to tell me something about the incident but I couldn't help but avert my full away from him.

As soon as the bell rings, I find myself lurking around corners trying to find her this intoxicating girl. I see her within a large group of people. Unknowingly, I begin following her. I want to apologize for earlier I lied to myself. Truth is, I just want to talk to her. I watch closely at her every movement. She walks with intent, purpose out of the front doors. She doesn't seem like the type to be stopped when clearly, she belonged elsewhere. And so, defeated and unfulfilled, I trek home.

There, I find someone sitting on my couch.

"Esme" I ask curiously.

"Edward" she greets, getting up. "I hope I didn't impose but I couldn't think of a better time to come and talk to you."

I toss my bag on the table and near her. "Is everything alright?" She has a worried expression plastered on her face, which she is never able to hide very well. Esme's like an open book. There's no possible way for her to hide her emotions…ever. I didn't take by her, obviously.

"No," she says, putting me to ease "I just wanted to pay you a little visit."

"Maybe this situation wouldn't seem too precarious if you'd called first." Her cheeks automatically flushed. I quickly realize my discourtesy and apologize with my eyes.

"I spoke to the receptionist and she let me in." She has a key to my place? Perfect. "I know I could have waited until you opened the door yourself but you didn't just expect me to wait outside did you?"

"To be quite honest, I didn't exactly expect you." I say plopping down on the love seat directly opposite her. "Is there anything you need?"

"Well Edward," she cups her hands "I wanted to talk to you, son. You've been despondent lately." Great, she came here to pry. I want nothing more than to order her out, but at last, she is my mother and I will never treat her with insolence. "I'm not here to ferret information out of you. I'm here to let you know that you can talk to me. I understand it was unfit of your father and I to drag you guys to a new place – especially you. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything – not making you happy most of all. I feel that I've failed you in that way –"

I understand where she's coming from. I see that she honestly feels guilt for something that was always my fault. Her eyes revealed her so much.

"Esme – mom, please stop. It's not your fault" I shrug "Me not being happy has nothing to do with you." I get up, pacing back and forth in front her chewing away at my thumb. Her eyes remained locked on me but I could return the same emotion filed one. "You've been a great mother, the best actually but it's not anyone else. It's something inside of me, something inside of me that I need to fix." Tears began streaming down her face.

"I understand" she complied "You're a big boy; you need to make your own decisions, don't you?" Smiling, I walk closer to her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. I open my arms to her, hugging her. And for the first time in a long time, Esme made me feel like I was her son. "Well I guess I better stop all this crying" she joked. "Plus, I better get going."

"How are you getting home?"

"Oh I was just going to call Carlisle to come get me. Why?"

"You don't have to do that" I begin, "I'll take you home."

"I know you have homework –"

"Really? Homework?" I scoffed, "Is that your answer?"

We both let out slight chuckles and decided to head out. We walk to the garage where the residents' cars are all parked. We don't have to walk too far before finding my sleek BMW. As Esme reaches to open the door, I quickly leap in front of her. She gives me a pleased look and slides in. I smile to myself remembering she was the one to grow me as a gentleman. The only aspect of my personality I'm inwardly pleased with. The car ride is filled with pointless conversation that she seems to be enjoying. We talk about work and the weather. Carlisle's first day at work was fine. She spoke to him before coming to my apartment. He has an upcoming surgery in a few weeks from now.

Esme clearly doesn't have to work but she's rather restless. She's volunteering her time at a children's shelter. She thinks she'll most likely adopt another child. I encourage her to do so. With her youngest already sixteen, her motherly instinct would be put to waste.

I pull up to their house.

"Goodnight Edward," she places a light motherly kiss upon my cheeks, she hops out of the car before I have a chance to get out.

"Mom!" I call, "I love you."

Her expression reveals her joy. This is the sort of thing she likes, I thought. This is her fulfillment.

"I love you my son" she returns an honest smile.

With my head light on and the radio as low as it gets, I drive away. I turn off the GPS as I try memorizing the way to my parents' home. The street lights are dimmed, making the signs difficult to see but I manage. Less than ten minutes into the drive, I find myself in an unfamiliar part of town. Technically, Portland is an entirely unfamiliar place but this part is one that I haven't seen yet. The allies are relatively dark as they wreak of old garbage.

As I turn a corner, my headlights shine into an ally. I notice something moving, trying to get up it seems…a girl. I hear her moans echoing softly in the midst of the clear night. Without parking, I escape the aroma of my car and step into the foul smells of a precarious place. Finally, I drop to the ground. I look to her to find any sign on damage. She could be bruised, raped, beaten I though nervously. I touch her face softly, removing her black hair. Her eyes are watery green, skin pale white and body ice cold. She opens her eyes slowly. I am absolutely stunned at what I find.

She looks up at me with those eyes, screaming help. She seems to realize she's in safe keepings and refrains from speaking. I lift her and place her in the passenger's seat. She wreaks of cocaine and all alcohol.

I immediately turn the heat as high as it would go in my faint attempt to warm her before going back to my apartment. My desire to find my way home is completely shattered by now. I turn on the GPS and am home in no time.

As I am about to take her quickly back to my apartment, I remember the receptionist, Kathleen. She'd be suspicious of her. I could not let anyone see her. Remembering seeing a back door, I slip my key out of my pocket and head in. I place both hands under her, sure not to hurt her and climb up to the thirteenth floor without any breaks. She can't be anything more than one hundred ten pounds, I thought. I hurriedly open the door to my apartment and rush in. Fading in and out of consciousness I place her on my bed. I leave her there momentarily and return to her with an ice-cold towel.

Looking up from my hands, I notice her arms are completely covered in black and blue mark. My thoughts span everywhere at once. The most obvious answer sticking to my mind, I ignore it. It wouldn't help either of us if I were to play detective.

Thankfully, she wakes up, leering from left to right, still unaware of her surroundings. She sits up on my bed and begins slurring her words.

"New kid right?" She has memory.

"I prefer Edward, but that works too." My palms press hard against her with the towel.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Nice to meet you, too," I say sarcastically. "But I'm helping you. The cold water will snap you out of your high" I explain.

"Why?" I notice her eyes flailing about, ending up in the back of her head. "Do you want something?" She returns "Blow job? Hand job?" She pauses. "Rim job?"

"You've given rim?" I ask, trying to avert her attention somewhere else but her bleeding wound. I take it she doesn't realize the blood dripping from her forehead. I use the ice cold towel to numb the feeling as well as clean the blood up from her. I take a few bandages from the first aid kit Esme always made me keep around, and place it on her wound.

"Testing you pretty boy. Surprised you know what that is."

"You're high."

"You're hot, want to fuck? You can take advantage if you want."

"Why don't you sleep" I offer.

"Fine," she plops down back on the bed. Turning to me, she says "But you're missing out."

"I bet I am," I say smiling. I bet I am.

Rather than sleeping in my bedroom, I decided to give her her space. Surely she wouldn't have any clue what happened in the morning. I don't want to freak her out more than she would already tomorrow so I undress sluggishly and fade to the memories of her dim eyes.


End file.
